


Only babies need comfort

by Snowflakesandangels



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Body Horror, Brock Rumlow is not a complete ass, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Crying, Daddy!Steve, Frustration, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Space, Little!Bucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9653282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowflakesandangels/pseuds/Snowflakesandangels
Summary: One morning, Bucky wakes up between headspaces, not fully big, not fully little. Things only go downhill from there; Bucky Bear ends up in quarantine, bad thoughts keep happening, the arm is bad, and a mean dinosaur gets killed. Winding up wet and crying under Bruce's desk is the last thing Bucky wants, but Bruce knows what it's like to be bad and need comfort, and has just the thing to help Bucky feel better.Set in Lauralot's Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower series





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts).



> Gift for Lauralot for her Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower series.
> 
> If you haven't read it, please do. It is an intriguing world.

He didn't ask for this.

He can feel the heat of Bucky Bear's stare from across the room. He's saying a few choice words that would have pulled Bucky out of himself on a normal day.

Not today, though.

For some reason, when he'd opened his eyes this morning, Bucky had found himself stuck between thirty and five. Not only did it feel weird, (really, really weird), it made him feel uncomfortable about everything. Grown up things were too hard to do and made him feel panicky, and little things felt so babyish he wanted to yell and throw things.

The worst part? No matter how much every nerve in him wanted to hug Bucky Bear, he couldn't stand to touch him.

It was silly to be afraid of holding a stuffed bear. Heck, even Pepper cuddled a stuffed tiger sometimes on movie nights when Tony was on a mission; and she was the most mature adult in the tower!

Bucky told himself he was being stupid, but every time he even thought about running his fingers through Bucky Bear's fur, it took everything in him not to scream.

*

"Where's Bucky Bear?"

Bucky looks up from his pepermint-chocolate-banana-almond milk smoothie, and feels his stomach drop. He doesn't know if he could ever explain something so confusing and heavy.

"He didn't feel like playing today."

"Oh." Pepper sits down in the sunny breakfast nook with her gluten-free toast and a cup of tea. "Maybe he'll feel up to it later."

Willing himself to swallow, Bucky forces down his last mouthful of smoothie and gets up to rinse his cup in the sink.

He doubts it...

*

Bucky opens his eyes; something is missing. The ache in his chest feels empty and cold, like the inside of a cryo tank.

Bucky Bear.

Last night, Steve had asked why he was on top of the dresser and not on Bucky's bed or in the playroom. Bucky had hated lying to him, but didn't know what else to do; so he'd said that Bucky Bear had a cold and was in quarantine from the other bears, and he had stuffing-aches, so he couldn't be cuddled. Steve had looked a bit worried, but let it go.

It was the next morning, and Bucky still couldn't stand the thought of hugging his bear.

Only now, he was little, and in desperate need of a Bucky Bear hug.

"Don't cry. Only babies cry, and you're five, not a baby."

On his way out of the bedroom, Bucky gave his bear a mournful glare.

*

Tony is soldering a new plate for one of his suits when Bucky reaches the lab. Not wanting to get too near, but still fascinated by the sparks, he hops onto a rolling stool at the far end of the metal work table. After a few more minutes, Tony turns off his torch.

"Hey, kiddo. Where's your little buddy?"

Bucky feels his face reddening as he clenches his fists.

"I'm not a baby! I don't need him!"

Tony perches his goggles on top of his head and chews on his lip. "I'm sorry... do you, um, want to make something?"

Heaving a sigh, Bucky starts picking at a dent in the table. "I guess so."

"Well, I've got this really cool new book about making weapons out of paperclips. I'll bet between us we could make a whole armory."

" 'm not s'pposed to have weapons."

Tony clears away his soldering project before bringing out a thin book and a box of office supplies. "Not knives and guns, no. But you've never used these kinds, so I think you'll be safe."

Wide eyed, Bucky flips his way slowly through the book while Tony sorts weapon making supplies into piles; rubber bands, paperclips, paper fasteners, binder clips, and popsicle sticks from the last Fourth of July party.

"Find something you like?"

Bucky turns the book around so Tony can see, and points to a picture of a crossbow.

"That one!"

*

Two hours later, and armed with a shoebox full of medieval war devices, Bucky lies facing the foot of his bed, chin propped on one hand, feet rhythmically hitting the pillow.

Left, right, left, right, left, right.

Bucky Bear is staring at him from the dresser, wanting to know what the big idea is leaving him in quarantine when superbearsoldiers never get sick.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Bucky stares right past him, not answering. Not even when Bucky Bear blows a raspberry to get his attention.

Left! Right! Left! Right! Left! Right!

Bucky, Bucky Bear says, is being silly. If he wants a hug, he should come and get one instead of making his pillow flat. And probably smell like socks.

LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT!

It's also silly, he says, to think crying is just for babies when Daddy cries all the time. It's silly to think that only babies hug stuffed animals when Pepper has Hobbes.  
It's silly-

ZAPP!

A rubber band snaps Bucky Bear square in the nose.

*

That night, Daddy asks more questions about Bucky Bear. What is he sick from? How long is he in quarantine for? Would honey help him recover faster? Is his stuffing still too achy for a hug?

Bucky does his best to answer as quickly as possible, and hide his scowls until Daddy has kissed him goodnight and left his room.

Scowling would have just upset Daddy and made him ask more questions. In the dark Bucky can scowl and pout as hard as he wants and nobody will see him. If he wants to hug Bucky Bear, no one would see-

"MASTER BARNES, I SEE YOU ARE RESTLESS. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PLAY SOME MUSIC FOR YOU?"

"No, thank you!"

Bucky shoots the covers over his head and hopes JARVIS doesn't have x-ray vison.

So much for that idea...

*

Even though he can barely tell time yet, Bucky knows that every number change on the microwave's clock is one minute.

Drinking his smoothie takes three minutes. Four if it tastes bad.

The grownups are all going to be in a meeting downstairs. As soon as he is finished, and before anyone can ask too many questions, Bucky makes a beeline for the playroom.

Finally... someplace he can be alone.

Books are good, if he could concentrate. The tea set is fun, but he's still full from breakfast. Bearvengers? Nope! Coloring it is.

Trying to find a coloring book that isn't babyish is a challenge; most of them are about bears having picnics, or tea parties, or oatmeal, and he doesn't want to mess up the princesses by being in a bad mood. Shuffling through a few more, he finds one that looks promising.

Dinosaurs? Bucky purses his lips and squints at the book at arm's length. Yeah, dinosaurs are okay. At least the fangs make them look dangerous.

Taking his book and box of crayons to the table, Bucky starts flipping through to find the scariest meat eater possible. Long necked leaf eater? No. Big fancy rhino with short legs? Nah. Long necked sea turtle? Weird, but not scary. Short front legs, big back legs, really sharp teeth...

Bucky feels his eyes starting to sting as he fights down the bad memories trying to take over.

Maybe, if he can color the picture really well, he can make the feelings go away.

He's a big boy, he can do it.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky picks out a brown crayon.

At least... he thinks they were brown. Light brown on a green background.

The crayon turns out to be the wrong shade of brown, leaving a streak of dark orange across the dinosaur's side.

Don't cry!

The next one is closer; not perfect, but at least not orange. Even after scraping as much of the orange off with his thumnail as he can, Bucky can still see it. The brown is good, but a bit too dark. It'll have to do.

It does, until it snaps under Bucky's nervous grip. As the crayon breaks, Bucky's hand jerks sideways, leaving another streak across the sky.

No! Don't cry! It's- It's just an accident!

Bucky thinks the playroom is getting hard to breathe in as he scrapes away at the brown streak. Just as he's about to get the last bit off, the page tears. It's not even a big tear; maybe not even the size of his little fingernail, but to Bucky, it might as well be the size of his arm.

He looks down at his hands through wide eyes; they're shaking, the right one has wax under the nails, and the left? Bucky doesn't even want to look at the left.

It's bad.

Like the dinosaur, it always ends up bad even though he does his best to be good. 

It shouldn't be there.

The grownups won't let him take it off, though.

They say he's good.

They say his arm is good.

But he knows it's bad.

It's wrong.

It shouldn't be there.

Bucky's really crying now; the playroom is too hot, to small, and too hard to breathe in. It's trying to suffocate him for being bad.

The ruined dinosaur grins up at him with its mean eyes, and hungry teeth; he knows it's right.

He shouldn't be here.

The page tears in half as Bucky rips it out of the book; but he's too busy running out the door to notice.

*

Rumlow hisses in pain as he rolls over on the couch. Who in their fricking right mind is banging on his door at 09:00 hours!

Yeah, right. Like he gets a lot of variety in his company. Getting up, he walks stiffly to the door.

"Jesus! Barnes! What the hell's your- oh..."

Barnes is taller than him by a few inches, but right now he looks really messed up.

"Hey, kid. What's, uh, what's wrong? Where's your bear?"

At that, Bucky breaks down completely. Rumlow has to stifle a shout as the not-so-little kid throws himself on him, sobbing loudly into his ear, and holding on for dear life.

"Woah! Winter, I can't hold you up. You're gonna have to stand by yourself."

Still crying, Bucky does as he's told, standing on his own so The Commander can pull him inside, and shut the door. It's not long enough, though; soon his knees give out and he collapses on the floor.

Rumlow is at a loss for what to do, but somhow he manages to sit on the floor. "Hey. What happened?"

Bucky knows crying is a horrible thing to do, but he can't stop; instead, he gives The Commander his torn coloring page. "I- r-ruined the- the d-dinosaur! Daddy gave- gave me dinosaur paja-jamas an' I c-colored it wrong!"

That son of a- "Which daddy? Rogers?"

Bucky's eyes go even wider as he shakes his head. He looks terrified, and like he's going to be sick.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sure we can fix your picture. Just... stop crying."

Whether its fear, shame, horror, or just missing Bucky Bear, he can't stop. He feels like he'll never be able to stop. He can't make it stop. Not on his own.

"P-please, Commander! Take my arm off!"

Rumlow feels bile rising to burn his throat at the same time a chill shoots down his spine. Hell no! He'll play babysitter when he has to, but he's not about to piss off Captain America by hurting his- whatever. At the same time, if the kid makes himself sick from crying, he'll get his ass handed to him anyway.

"Okay. I'll tell you what; I don't have any tools 'cause I'm not allowed to have sharp stuff around. But, uh, I think there might be some in the basement. If you stop crying, I'll go find something, alright? But only if you stop."

It's good motivation. He's nearly passing out, but Bucky takes deep breaths like Bruce showed him. In, 2, 3, out, 2, 3, in, 2, 3, out, 2, 3. Eventually he can breathe again.

"Good job, kid." The Commander hands him a juice box. "Just, uh, get that down and I'll check the basement."

The juice is gone before Bucky can speak again; his throat hurts, and his voice sounds weird. "Can I come with you?"

"No. You've got to stay here and guard the place. I'll be gone for about ten minutes. You know how long that is?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I know one minute is when the number changes on the microwave."

"Right. Well ten minutes is one number for every finger. You sit in the kitchen and count while I'm gone, okay?"

Bucky nods again and wipes his nose on his sleeve. "Okay."

Bucky's legs are too shaky to stand, so he scoots his body across the floor. In the kitchen, while fighting to ignore his left arm, he curls the right around his knees and stares up at the clock on The Commander's stove.

Ten minutes.

*

Rumlow makes it to the maintenance door of the apartment building, hoping it's far enough away that the kid won't be able to hear him.

He takes a deep breath of muggy air; who he wouldn't kill for a cigarette right now...

Since he doesn't have a cigarette, or good enough lungs to smoke one, he takes out his cell phone and contents himself with picturing Rogers' face when he answers.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Cap, you need to pick up your kid."

There's a sound like a rolling desk chair hitting the wall, followed by heavy footsteps, before he gets a response.

"What did you do to him?!"

"I didn't do a damn thing, and you know it. You just need to come get him."

"I know you don't like him coming to your place, but it's his choice."

Rumlow grits his teeth and forces himself to swallow down more bile when he tries to figure out how long he's been standing outside.

"This is different. He wants me to take his arm off."

"I'm on my way."

*

Bucky thinks The Commander must have lost count of the minutes when he finally hears him coming up the stairs.

"Couldn't you find any tools?"

The Commander looks sick. And scared.

"Just a rusty old hammer. Sorry, kid. Why don't I make you some pancakes. Okay? Then we can think of something else."

Bucky can feel the panic starting to creep in again; it's like his arm is full of tentacles that are trying to slither their way into the rest of his body.

The Commander won't help. What if- what if nobody helps?! He'll have to go back in the freezer forever!

Bucky's hyperventilating so hard he doesn't even hear Daddy come in. He's saying something about- about lambs, but all Bucky can hear is a waterfall of broken glass.

*

When Bucky wakes up, his tongue feels funny. His head hurts too; and his throat, and his knees, his shoulders, his neck... everything.

When he looks around, he's sees he's tucked up in Daddy's bed, with Daddy sleeping next to him.

So is Bucky Bear.

"NO!"

"WHAT?!" Daddy sits up fast, narrowly missing Bucky Bear flying past his head before he hits the wall. "Bucky? Bucky, what's wrong?"

But Bucky's already running out the door. He needs to find a bathroom, he needs to scream, he needs to hide, he needs to have his arm off, he needs Bucky Bear so bad he feels it's killing him.

He doesn't even know which button he hits in the elevator, just that he's running as soon as the door opens. The soft music he hears when he reaches the lab slows him down for a second. It's coming from Bruce's side, but Bruce isn't there.

He wouldn't want him there anyway, not if he knew how bad he was.

The best place to hide is under Bruce's desk; it's small, and relatively dark. Pressing his back aginst the wall, Bucky tries to breathe and not think about how uncomfortable he is. He's not wearing a pull-up, he'll be wet. His arm is bad, and it's making him bad. He hurts all over, especially his arms and chest, where Bucky Bear should be, and his head hurts from crying.

He probably deserves to be uncomfortable; it's a good punishment, and since no one here will give him any, he'll give it to himself.

"Hey, Bucky."

Under the desk, Bucky flinches, causing something above him to rattle. He shouldn't be here.

"I was just getting tea, would you like some?"

Bucky knows it's rude not to answer questions, but he doesn't trust himself not to cry again, so he just shakes his head.

"Okay. If you need anything, I'm just going to be working over on my cushions."

Bucky watches as Bruce settles down with his tea and a laptop. Has he- has he ever worked on his cushions before? It's strange, usually work is at the desk and meditation is on the cushions.

Then Bucky realizes that Bruce can't use his desk because he's underneath it.

He's being bad, but he can't move. If he does, he'll come apart.

"I heard Bucky Bear's been in quarantine."

Bruce is talking to him, but his eyes are still on his laptop. Bucky swallows hard. "Yeah."

"What happened to him?"

"He... he was bad. And it made him sick."

Bruce nods like he understands. He still doesn't look at Bucky; that's good though, it helps him breathe.

"That happens to me sometimes; I get sick when I'm mad. Did Bucky Bear get mad?"

There isn't much room under the desk. Bucky tries to stretch his legs out a little, but only manages to rattle Bruce's stuff again.

"His head stuffing got too tight. It made him scared and mad and not able to have hugs." It made him kill a dinosaur, too; but Bucky doesn't say that. "He... he felt like a baby for wanting to be hugged."

The last few words come out in a tiny whisper. Bucky doesn't want anyone to know how he felt; it makes him feel cold and naked and dirty, it makes him feel bad. But Bruce is talking again, and Bucky has to pull himself out of his bad thoughts to listen.

"I think I get it. You know, it's okay to want comfort. No matter how bad you've been."

"Big boys don't need it."

Bruce's chuckle is warm, like honey green tea, as he types something into the laptop. "The green guy's bigger than everyone, and comfort is the only thing calms him down when he's been bad. Can I show you something?"

Bucky thinks about it for a second, wondering if he can move yet. He shifts his arm; he doesn't fall apart. But he's really wet.

Bruce must understand uncomfortable faces, because he gets up from his cushions to help Bucky stand up. "Why don't you and Bucky Bear meet me in the movie room, okay? I've got some special honey that makes bears good no matter how bad they've been."

Bucky isn't sure about the idea, but he really wants to be good.

*

In his room, Bucky takes a cold shower because he's still hasn't finished his punishment, and puts on clean underwear and clothes. They're comfy, but not his most comfy ones.

He remembers that Bucky Bear is still with Daddy. He doesn't want Daddy to ask him questions, but he doesn't have any other choice. He sighs and picks up his shield backpack; at least he won't have to carry Bucky Bear in his arms.

When he reaches Daddy's floor, he's not there; he can hear the shower running though, so unless Daddy took Bucky Bear with him, he may be able to smuggle him out.

Peeking around the corner, Bucky sees his hostage proped up between the pillows on Daddy's neatly made bed. He has a Captain America band-aid on his nose, and a few choice words for the someone who threw him into a wall.

Bucky has to try very hard not to laugh; the band-aid on Bucky Bear's nose looks like a mustache and makes him sound funny.

It's eaiser to pick up a bear that looks and sounds funny, even if he is mad at you. Bucky makes sure Bucky Bear is comfortable in the backpack before he zips it up. Bucky Bear doesn't need an air hole since bears can osmose air when they have to; it's a skill that all highly-trained-operative bears pride themselves on.

*

Bruce is waiting in the movie room with a jar of honey and some snacks. Bucky puts the jar of honey into his backpack but leaves the zipper open so Bucky Bear can hear the movie.

"You ready?"

Bucky nods and curls up on one end of the couch with his snack. Bucky Bear is in his backpack on the floor; he's making contented bear osmosing sounds, so Bucky feels alright about giving his full attention to the movie.

It's a cartoon about Christmas. Bucky thinks the music is nice; there's a dog that goes on imaginary adventures with a canary, a very, very skinny Christmas tree, and a boy who takes a blanket with him everywhere he goes.

The boy isn't a baby at all; he's really smart, and kind, but if someone teases him, he can make his blanket into a weapon. He doesn't hurt anyone with it, though; just shows them he doesn't care what they say.

Maybe Bucky isn't a baby for having Bucky Bear.

When the movie is over, Bruce asks if they want to watch another one. They do, and this time Bucky Bear can see the whole thing from his place on Bucky's lap.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky's Smoothie: 
> 
> 1 tablespoon of peppermint flavored cocoa mix or syrup  
> 1 banana  
> 1/2 - 1 cup of almond milk, to desired consistency
> 
> Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.
> 
> -
> 
> Pepper's stuffed tiger is Hobbes from the Calvin and Hobbes comics.
> 
> -
> 
> The movie Bruce shows Bucky is A Charlie Brown Christmas. He wanted Bucky to see that like Linus, he doesn't need to feel bad about Bucky Bear.


End file.
